30 Day OTP Challenge
by The English Loon
Summary: This is a 30 day challenge of Johnlock. It will start out SFW but in later chapters be NSFW. Please enjoy.
1. Hold my Hand

Hello! This is part of a 30 day challenge. There will be 30 of these so do enjoy prompt one. I wanted something sad sooo... eheheh... Enjoy!

Prompt: Holding Hands  
Ship: Johnlock

* * *

This could not be happening. No no no it could not be happening. He couldn't lose him, not now, not now that he had finally allowed himself to see just how much he loved him. He needed him.

John's eyes followed him as he fell, he had cried out for him but it didn't stop gravity from playing it's roll. Sherlock fell and John rushed to his aid. He ran to his side, praying that he would be alright. He was Sherlock, he had to be alright. Though as his hand found the body broken on the pavement his heart shattered.

Nothing... No pulse. Not a single sign of life... His Sherlock, the first and only man he loved was dead. And as his and fell from John's it took all he had not to cry. "He's my friend." Was all that left him as he was led away.

The next few days were a blur, the doctor sat in his chair, simply waiting for the detective to walk in, waiting to see him show up and explain some elaborate schem of how he survived. Anything at all just to see him... He never came.

A week or so passed and the funeral came. He was there longer than the rest, just staring at the grave. The greatest man he would ever know laid there, burried under all that dirt... As he spoke to the grave, a lump forming in his throat three words repeated themselves in his head. Three unspoken words as he patted the tombstone. Three little insignificant words...

That night he contimplated it, suicide. There was a perfectly good roof over his head, a rope, a knife, even a gun... He thought long and hard about it, but in the end he stood and left to his bed. His hands finding their way under his pillow to hold the glove, one of the gloves Sherlock would wear.

And in that moment, his eyes closed, he pictured Sherlock. He pictured the detective there holding his eyes and in that moment he finally let himself break, a few silent tears sliding down his cheeks and three unspoken words finally coming out.

"I loved you."


	2. Chapter 2

It was the next morning, John had clutched that glove tight through out the night. Now as he got up he slipped the glove into his pocket. He slowly made his way to the kitchen once again debating on if he should join Sherlock. Would be easy, all he had to do was slip a few pills into his coffee... Yes, today would be the day. He stepped into the kitchen and the first thing he saw made him stop dead in his tracks.

He was there, right in front of him, Sherlock. The man that was supposed to be dead. His best Friend who was supposed to be DEAD. The man he had finally admitted stole his heart, who was SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD. "Now John I know this must come as a surprise but let me explain I-" Sherlock was not able to finish his sentence, no there was a fist in his face before that could come to pass.

"You were dead!" John gritted his teeth, clenching his fists and debating on punching him again, "I thought you were dead! How- I felt your pulse, you were dead Sherlock."

"No." Sherlock held his nose, wincing as he straightened himself out and looked to John, nice punch too his nose was starting to dribble blood. "I was never dead. It was a ruse John."

"I know that now! Why didn't you tell me? I can understand the others, but why not me?! I thought we were friends." He slipped one hand in his pocket, squeezing the glove he had started carrying with him everywhere. "Do you know how hard it was for me... Thinking I had lost you?"

Sherlock was taken a back by this, he had known he and John were friends but John had plenty of friends right? Looking him over he noticed everything, John had been crying, his hand was squeezing something and as it all pieced together in his mind it was all so clear."You love me."

John stared at him and didn't even try to lie, he couldn't lie to him, Sherlock would see right through it. "Yes. Yes, I _did_."

Sherlock truly had no idea how to react to this, he had honestly always thought of them as a couple and now John had admitted he liked, no loved him. He moved in closer actually nervous as he tried to kiss John and one more punch for Sherlock. "What was that for? People in love kiss."

"People in love do not make a man sit at home crying for years over the death of the one man he would actually consider loving. People in love cuddle and kiss and spend time together." He shook his hand with the force of that last punch, staring up into Sherlocks eyes. "Normal people in love don't do things like this."

"I am not normal John, you know this."

"I know. I know I know. But what i don't get is why? Why did you not tell me or send me a sign... Just one small sign to show you were okay." He was so happy Sherlock had broken into his home, so glad no one but the detective could se the tears forming. "Why?"

Sherlock had no good answer there, he stayed silent. He could tell him plenty of actual true reasons why he stayed away but all of it would hurt him. He cared about John, enough to memorize every line on his face, that look in his eyes when he was with him, that look that was now sad. "I am sorry John."

"Sorry is not enough Sherlock. I've waited for three years. THREE YEARS." He walked around him to the counter, angrily going about his daily routine. "Get out. I do not want to see you right now."

That was all he needed to say, Sherlock turned and left without a word. He knew John was in no mood to put up with him, he could wait for him to calm down. The detective left as he came, unnoticed and unseen. Leaving John to cry there in his kitchen alone.


	3. Chapter 3

A full month passed, it was Christmas eve and John was alone at last, leaned back in his chair when he heard footsteps. "Sherlock." He stated it, knowing it was the detective trying to slip in. They had been spending time together for nearly every day, and John had slowly been forgiving him as each day passed.

Now Christmas eve had rolled around and the detective circled around to sit in his chair. "John." He held a large box in one hand, watching John for any sign that said now was a bad time. When he saw none but an actual sign that he should be there he smiled a little, "I am terrible with gifts but I got you this."

John looked at him finally, opening his eyes to take in the sight of Sherlock and his gift. He leaned forward to take the box from him, "You didn't have to you know."

"It is what couples do." Sherlock insisted, even though John refused to call them a couple just yet. Not that Sherlock cared, he knew the feelings were there and really he had never been in a relationship before.

"We aren't a couple." John stated simply as he started to open his gift, lifting the top off the box to see... Oh wow that was quiet possibly the ugliest sweater he had ever seen. John couldn't help but laugh at how god awful this thing looked. "Wow. You had to try hard to find a sweater as ho-lovely as this one." He stopped himself, seeing the smile fall from Sherlock's face.

"You hate it." He sighed and fell back into his chair.

"No, no, I don't hate it. I just.. I don't actually know what to think about it." He looked to Sherlocks face and smiled, "I like it, I really do. And." He reached over and pulled a box into his lap that was beside the seat. "Open it." John held the poorly wrapped box out to Sherlock.

The detective took the box and opened it, he really hadn't expected to get anything from John and when he looked inside it was his turn to laugh. "You got me a skull?" He looked to John, actually amused at this discovery.

"Yes, I got you a skull. through away your other one." He licked his lip and pulled out a second box. "Now open this one."

"A second?" He took the box confused and looked it over, as if he didn't believe it was his. "Why?"

"Just open it." Sherlock still wanted to know but did as he was told, tearing through the wrapping paper and pearing into the box. In the box was a key ring with one key on it, the detective looked up to John slightly confused but hopeful in the back of his mind that he had taken the hint the way it was intended. "Consider it a welcome home gift."


End file.
